


THE GIFT or,"Why didn't I get a present?"

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Christmas Presents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: In year seven it's the annual Secret Santa gift exchange. Someone on Voyager didn't get a gift!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mary Stark](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mary+Stark).



> Written as a Christmas gift for Mary Stark, betareader, editor and friend.

The holodeck was filled to capacity, if that could even happen. Revelry spilled over to the mess hall and observation lounge and even to those stations where disappointed crew were on duty. Neelix's annual gift exchange was in session. Well, not the actual exchanging of gifts yet, but with six years experience organising the event, he strutted around proudly wearing his Santa hat. The white band boasted little red stars that flicked on and off and a pixie point that bobbed naughtily from side to side. Said he'd seen it in an old Macy's catalogue in the ship's database. Some crew were more disparaging and said it reminded them of someone's anatomy. 

"Although the suit is a little tight around the - the uh… - "

" - belly?" Tom Paris completed the sentence. "Here, taste this." Paris handed him a Waterford crystal glass filled with eggnog.

"What - what did you spike it with this year, Mr Paris?" Neelix blustered.

"Nothing, I swear! Taste!"

Neelix tasted the tasty drink, rolled his tongue a few times and smacked his lips. 

"Now that is high quality eggnog. You're sure you did nothing to it?"

"Scout's honour!"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I'm giving it to Seven of Nine. She could use a little Christmas cheer."

And so it went on until everyone saw Seven of Nine appearing decidedly wonky, holding a glass to Chakotay. "Commander, do you have two heads? This," she slurred, patting the glass, "this is very good. Do you have two heads?"

Chakotay gave Seven a look that said, "Go a _way_!"

"Mama," Naomi asked, "what is that hanging over Noah Lessing's head?"

"It's mistletoe, honey. Says whenever you're standing under it, you have to kiss a person."

"That's officially ewwwww!"

"Someone kiss me!" Noah's voice boomed in the holodeck. "Someone!" He waited. "Anyone?"

"I can't reach you, dammit!" cried short of stature Susan Nicoletti.

Next moment Noah hauled her up in his arms like she was a three year old child and kissed her soundly. Someone shouted, "Hey, stop it already! Get a room!" 

"And now," Neelix announced, "it's time for the exchange of gifts!"

The next few minutes was marked by general mayhem of the good kind. Shiny holographic streamers were thrown, whoops of delight filled the air when someone received a gift he or she never expected. Maybe some not quite what they wanted, but they whooped anyway. 

Susan received a gift from Noah, well, apart from the great "get a room" kiss. A shout of delight as she exclaimed first her surprise that her gifter was the giant Maasai warrior Noah, then that he used all his rations to replicate a new oboe since he'd sat on hers one night in her quarters and broke the instrument clean in half. She had fumed at him for weeks. Now she stood under the mistletoe and kiss her oboe.

A lower decks Maquis crewman presented Captain Janeway with her gift. He stepped forward, stuttered through his intro, took two steps back when she moved, because only two weeks ago he'd heard that the captain had killed an unfortunate crewman with just a look and a scowl. He wore a Santa hat which looked ridiculous on his mop of hair and too large head. He was after all, a Klingon. So he dared another step forward. One would have thought Klingons were the greatest warriors of the Alpha Quadrant, full of fight and honour and courage. But Radok was dead scared of Janeway. With a hand that struck like a cobra's as if he were going to pluck something from her bosom, he practically threw her a gold pendant on a gold chain. Janeway took the gift and thanked him most graciously. It was said that Radok breathed a huge sigh of relief afterwards and later told Torres that the moment the holodeck was vacant, he'd fight ten Klingons to remind himself he was still Klingon. 

Everyone received a gift. Neelix crowed over his new chef's hat but refused to try it on because he didn't want to remove the bobbing pixie Santa hat. Naomi received an intricate cube from Icheb. When asked about it he replied with, "A mathematically precise device that you will need to unlock by identifying at least nine known algorithms before any satisfaction can be obtained." To which Naomi replied, "Oh, it's a Rubik's Cube!"

The crew walked around satisfied with their gifts and proudly showing them off to their friends. 

It must be said here that not everyone received a gift. One person walked around scowling. It appeared a cloud hovered over his head. With hands firmly attached to his hips he muttered unintelligibly as he walked around the holodeck looking like he was not interested in the gift exchange. 

"Why does Chakotay look like a bullet exploded in his head?"

"Do you know if got his gift?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"He's sniffing around the others like a dog!"

"Who was his Secret Santa?"

"I'm not asking Neelix. He got the names confused last year."

"Boy, it must hurt not getting anything."

"I have never not received a gift."

"Should we tell the captain?"

"What's she got to do with it? Neelix organised this."

"Where is she?"

"Gone as usual one hour after joining the festivities. Does it every time."

"Who can blame her? We're all a bit drunk."

"Are you drunk?"

"I only had eggnog!"

"Poor Sjhakotay. He'sh shad. Don't come this way, pleash…"

Commander Chakotay was indeed sad and upset. He didn't get his gift. That sucked. How could he show the others it didn't matter? Like every child on Earth waiting for Santa, he also wanted a gift. The disappointment that he was overlooked and forgotten this year ran very deep. He didn't want them to see how miserable he felt. The others didn't venture near him, for fear of invoking his ire. He had two fists and a head-butting forehead, ready to punch anyone to kingdom come who troubled him by asking what was wrong, or heaven forbid, who forgot Chakotay's gift? 

He glanced furtively around him, watching them showing off their gifts. They looked happy. The atmosphere was very merry, Christmas merry. They were unwinding, drinking eggnog and whatnot. 

Last year he got a river stone from Marla Gilmore who had painted the design of his tattoo on it. He had been overjoyed and almost brought to tears because it was the most thoughtful gift this side of the Alpha Quadrant. And the year before that Radok the Klingon who was more scared of him than he was of a targ, gave him a Klingon dagger. Boy, he loved that dagger, recalling how Radok had retreated as Chakotay pointed the dagger at his neck, mainly to say 'thank you' but Radok didn't see it that way. He'd looked at the Boss like, "You wish to kill me with the gift I just gave you?"

Kathryn had left fifteen minutes ago with her pendant around her neck, never mind that they weren't supposed to show their jewellery. Good for her. She got her gift from that weasel Radok the Klingon no less. She was happy. Happy! And he? He'd given her a gift one year - it was year two when it had been too soon to reveal to her his feelings. Chakotay snorted. Kathryn would have laughed at him and he'd have dived out the nearest air lock from sheer embarrassment. But she had appreciated and loved the collection of Walt Whitman poems, headlined by "The Untold Want" he'd given her in that year's Secret Santa. 

She gave him no chance to love her. He'd have carried her to Ocampa and back; he'd have treasured her, given her the world if only she accepted him. He'd tried before with little gifts he thought would soften her resolve against love and commitment to a man. To him. 

"You know I have a duty, Commander."

Commander.

Whenever she rejected his avowals of love, that was all she needed to do. Call him Commander. 

He envied Noah Lessing who got kissed under the mistletoe. What if he had been standing there?

"Hey, Captain, come here. See this?" And he'd point to the mistletoe above him. "Kiss me!"

"Of course, Chakotay. I will kiss you."

Then he'd swoon of the sheer pleasure that ripped through his body. "Will you love me back, Kathryn?" he'd ask between kisses and gasps and mingling breaths.

"Oh, yes, I will be your wife. Let's go home and find a room!"

But that conversation only played out in his head every year at Christmas Secret Santa time. He played those conversations over and over at other times too, in his quarters or on the bridge dreaming about how she'd say yes to him. Snorting again, he felt someone rib him.

Paris.

"Hey, Commander, didn't you get a gift this year?"

The next moment Tom Paris kissed the floor as Chakotay's fist connected with the pilot's jaw. 

"Go to hell!" he blustered before stalking off towards the sickbay doors. Everyone who looked, including Tom from his vantage point of the floor, could see the dark clouds swirling above Chakotay's head. The way the warrior lunged through the sickbay doors. He might well have slammed the door if they could…slam.

He strode down the corridor, entered the turbolift and ordered his deck. So what if he didn't get something. He never liked Secret Santas anyway. Waste of good holodeck time. So what. And that stupid mistletoe to invite kissing. Stupid. Noah kissing a child. What a waste! Gifts! He didn't want one anyway. So what. 

He walked bent over, like the storm clouds were weighing him down. Did smoke come out his nostrils? No more Secret Santas for him. Next time he'll just say, "Secret Santa? Nah, no way I'm participating again. Stupid tradition anyway."

Chakotay stood at the doors to his quarters. He punched in his code. The panel felt strangely warm as if a ghost breathed on it. The doors slid open and closed again when he stepped over the threshold. It was dark. Strange. It was always at thirty percent illumination the moment he entered.

He smelled something as he walked slowly and sniffed the recycled air. Did a whiff of perfume tickle his senses? Frowning, he moved to his bedroom. 

Hundred percent illumination.

Then he choked on his breath.

Kathryn Janeway stood there. Her hair fell in golden tresses over her shoulders. Her eyes smouldered and her pouting lips invited.

She was also gloriously, stupendously, magnificently stark naked.

He had time to note that her breasts were firm, pert, a real handful if he could fill his hands with them. And on each nipple was attached a gold ring, one quite smaller than the other. The rings, that was, not the nipples. Those were perfectly erect. 

"Kathryn?"

"I am your Secret Santa, Chakotay."

"Kathryn?"

"No more doubts, no more rejection. Just me, for real this time."

"Kathryn?"

'Do you know only two syllabled words?"

"Really?"

"Come and get these rings, my love. You don't have to use your hands."

***********   
END


End file.
